


And To Your Name, I Offer This Bouquet

by sg_reina



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, oikage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3083621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sg_reina/pseuds/sg_reina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Oikage, one-sided KageHina) It’s like mutual respect, Oikawa thinks. That’s why after losing Kageyama, Oikawa tries to pick himself back up, one step at a time. It’s like mutual dependence, Kageyama thinks. That’s why after losing volleyball, Kageyama breaks down, one step at a time. Neither calls their relationship love, because to label it as such, would simply be a disgrace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And To Your Name, I Offer This Bouquet

Twenty seconds to the start of the last day of the year, Kageyama spends it alone at home, sitting on his couch and watching some silly game show on air because he’s too lazy to flip through the channels. He isn’t exactly excited for a new year, and he doesn’t have any resolutions either. There would be nothing distinguishing this year from the next.  
  
Fifteen seconds to the start of the last day of the year, Kageyama cranks up his heater, hearing the old machine protest weakly before dying out. His mobile beeps continuously with incoming tweets and messages in preparation of the new year. Two voicemails comes in with Hinata’s drunken laughter and Kageyama finally snaps, switching off his device and tossing it aside.  
  
Ten seconds to the start of the last day of the year, Kageyama gives up watching all the crap on air and switches off his television, reveling in the peace enveloping his room. He considers pouring himself a cup of hot tea when the clock on the wall strikes twelve and he hears the jingling of keys and the sound of the front door opening and closing.

Kageyama tips his upper body precariously over the back of the couch and glances into the mirror so he’ll have a view of the doorway.

“Welcome home. You’re late.”

The brunet looks up from unbuckling his boots and smiles sheepishly. The flecks of snow on the top of his head melts and slides off the tips of his hair.

“I’m home, Tobio-chan.”

* * *

_(The sound of a violin._

_The sound of a piano._   
_The sound of a radio._   
  
_He wakes up to the sound of a whistle and the smell of something burning.)_

* * *

The first thing Kageyama does when he wakes is to switch on his mobile. It vibrates with all the spam mails his high school teammates sent and Kageyama switches it off again. He can’t stand all the noise this early in the morning, it’s only — he glances at the digital alarm clock on his bedside table — seven in the morning.

The heater is still off and it’s getting cold even under the thick covers. Kageyama groans and rolls onto his stomach, lying face-down on the bed.  
  
“Wake up already, Tobio-chan! How long do you intend to sleep? Can’t you smell the bacon and eggs? Doesn’t it make you hungry?”  
  
“Shut up, you’re noisy!” Kageyama hollers back, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and struggles to sit up. When he fails, he instantly gives up and continues lying sprawled out on the bed, burying his face into his pillow.  
  
“Tobio-chan, honestly?”  
  
Oikawa’s voice is closer this time and exasperated, Kageyama raises up his mobile, using the phone screen to look behind him so he wouldn’t have to turn around. He sees Oikawa in the reflection, right hand holding a spatula, left hand on his hip, and in an apron with ribbons and frills. He chokes.  
  
“Oikawa-san… What the hell are you wearing?”  
  
The brunet grins, waving the spatula in his hand from side to side. “Tsk tsk, are you saying that it’s better if I wear nothing but an apron? Naughty little Tobio-chan has weird fetishes!”  
  
Kageyama shoots upright on the bed, wide-awake, and with the tips of his ears turning pink. “I never said that! And stop calling me that!”  
  
“Tralalala~ Can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything~”  
  
“Oikawa, you-!”

* * *

_(There’s someone screaming, and someone yelling._

_Something in him hurts and something against him moves._   
_There’s the sound of coughing and a familiar warmth against him._

_Kageyama leans towards it.)_

* * *

The volume of Oikawa’s voice falls the next time he speaks. It’s soft and sounds almost melancholic, but somehow, Kageyama hears him clearly. “Come out already. I have to leave soon for morning practice, you know?”

Groaning, Kageyama gets out of bed and freshens up, pulling on a clean sweater before heading to the kitchen, and grabs the bacon and cheese from the refrigerator and chucks them into the heatproof tray in the oven. The orange light flickers on when Kageyama powers the appliance up and he drags a stool over and sits right in front of the oven, watching the bacon strips turn round and round in the oven as the cheese melts onto them.

It looks delicious.

Kageyama finds himself leaning closer to view the food, and in doing so, he notices Oikawa’s face reflected on the handle of the microwave oven, grinning widely and all prepared to creep up behind him. He groans internally.  
  
“Oikawa-san, I know you’re there. And for the record, just because I don’t wake up early in time for breakfast doesn’t mean that you have to refrigerate the food you make for me.”  
  
“It’s a habit. A bad one.” Oikawa leans over Kageyama’s shoulder and joins in with staring at the food. Slowly, the fragrance of bacon permeates the air and both of them inhale deeply in anticipation.  
  
“If you know it’s bad, then change it.”  
  
“Tobio-chan has so many more bad habits! Yet you aren’t changing any of them!”  
  
“Why are you changing the subject to me?!”  
  
Oikawa straightens up and huffs, stomping into the living room. Kageyama rolls his eyes and plates the cooked cheese-covered bacon strips, chewing on one of them as he made his way to the living room. Now, if he has some toast and coffee too, then today’s breakfast would be more than perfect.

But he doesn’t, so Kageyama settles for sitting on his usual seat on the couch and watches Oikawa rushing around, running from the bedroom to the front door and back to the bedroom again.

He’s a little amused.

* * *

_(He feels someone dragging him out, and somehow, it hurts._

  
_There’s something pressing down hard on his hand and the force pulling him out is so large that it makes him scream, He shrieks, writhing in pure agony, as he feels his shoulder joint protesting before his hand swings free from whatever it was originally under, and falls lamely on Kageyama’s side._   
  
_The voices fade around him.)_

* * *

“Tobio-chan, honestly, if you have time to sit around and stare at that massive TV screen, then get off your lazy ass and come help me! I’m going to be late!”  
  
Kageyama rolls his eyes. He’s still tired and all he wants to do now is to finish eating and simply go back to sleep. In fact, he feels like he could fall asleep right here. “Don’t want to.”  
  
“Tobio-chan, I swear I wi-” Kageyama hears the hideous ringtone he remembers Nishinoya and Tanaka setting on his phone, and he cringe inwardly. “-Hello, thank you for calling Mr. Kageyama I’m-such-a-dick-in-the-morning-please-stick-a-pole-up-my-ass Tobio, what may I do for-”  
  
“Oikawa, what the-!” Kageyama exclaims, dropping his plate, and sending the porcelain and the bits of cheese and bacon mess all across the marble floor as he sprints into the bedroom at the fastest speed he can and snags his phone from the top of his pillow, and accidentally hits the button to pick up the call. “-Fuck.”  
  
“Hello? Kageyama? Are you at home?” Kageyama recognises Hinata’s voice from the other end of the line and all he can think of is that he wants to cut the call right now because it’s still too early to deal with all the shit Hinata would bring. And it’s not even New Years. What did he do to deserve this? “I’m thinking of dropping by later but-”  
  
“Don’t come,” Kageyama interrupts brusquely and cuts off the call.

He doesn’t even give Hinata a chance to continue the conversation because they’ve been through it enough for Kageyama to know what Hinata is going to say next.  
  
Kageyama pockets his phone and grabs his keys, taking long strides to the front door and throws the door open. Sunlight glares from his neighbor’s glass window right into Kageyama’s eyes.   
  
“Oikawa-san, we’re leaving. I’ll walk you to the train station.”  
  
“Eh? But the bacon? All that stuff on the floor?”  
  
“Leave it.”

* * *

_(How’s the bone?_

  
_He probably can’t move it anymore._   
_Even with rehabilitation, he probably can’t lift it anymore.)_

* * *

Kageyama tucks his hands into the pockets of his sweater and blows out a cloud of vapor. Why is winter always this cold. He shivers, regretting not putting on more layers before leaving.

“I can always give you my scarf, you know? You look cold.”  
  
“You don’t say,” Kageyama retorts curtly but makes no move to take the scarf from Oikawa. Instead, he peers into the stores through their glass windows and stares at all the cozy looking sweaters in it. 

He shivers, holding back a sneeze.  
  
“Why are you looking at those? Could it be that you want new clothes? I’ll buy some for you!”

Kageyama makes a face, and glares at Oikawa reflected on the shop’s glass doors. He doesn’t turn from the glass panels but instead, slows his pace so he could watch Oikawa longer without the latter suspecting anything.  
  
Regardless of the cold, he doesn’t actually dislike being out with Oikawa like this. It’s been a long time since they were outdoors together, probably ever since he hurt his shoulder and was told he’ll never be able to play volleyball ever again because he wouldn’t be able to lift his left hand above his chest height.  
  
Kageyama remembers how hellish the months following that news was. He remembers being asked to leave the National team, and how shitty he felt when he was forced to do so. He remembers how much he hates seeing Hinata’s face after that, especially since Hinata is the only one who is  still trying desperately to keep in contact with him.  
  
“Tobio?”  
  
Kageyama notices Oikawa trying to hold his hand from the panel and instantly jerks his hand out of the way. Pain shoots up his left arm and he yells in a voice louder than expected. “Don’t-!”  
  
The two elderly couples across the street stares at Kageyama and he flushes up to his ears in embarrassment, hastily returning their stares with an awkward smile and nod before he pulls up his hood and hurries down the street.

Just round the corner, he bumps into an orange-haired man, someone who’s much taller than what Kageyama remembers. He tries to turn and hurry away in the opposite direction, but he knows it’s too late when he feels fingers close around his wrist.  
  
“Kageyama.”  
  
Shit.

* * *

_(Kageyama registers the words, and he decides he doesn’t want to live in a world like this._

_He doesn’t want to live in a world without volleyball._   
  
_Where’s the other kid?_   
_He’s here. He’s alive._   
  
_Kageyama exhales.)_

* * *

“Are you listening to me, Kageyama?”

It’s awkward how Hinata doesn't greet him with ‘It's finally the last day!’ but Kageyama isn’t complaining.  
  
He is glad for the window seat and the distractions going on outside as Hinata rambles on. Kageyama watches Oikawa resting his chin on his hands and glaring at Hinata. He chokes back a chuckle before turning his attention back to Hinata, looking straight into the latter’s eyes. “No.”  
  
Hinata bristles. “What the-”  
  
“Here’s your drinks. One espresso macchiato and one orange juice,” the waitress interrupts, and bends to set the drinks down on the table — coffee for Kageyama and juice for Hinata — and Kageyama notices the name glinting off the nametag reading ‘Kiyoko’ and wonders briefly how two people with the same name could look so different.

Kageyama lifts his left hand onto the tabletop with the support of his right hand, and stirs the drink with the stirrer provided.

“Are you really drinking that...?”  
  
Kageyama doesn’t miss how Hinata’s expressions change when he dips a biscuit into the espresso macchiato and chews on it, before taking a sip of the drink of the exceedingly bitter liquid to go along with it. “And you? Are you still hooked on drinking that?”  
  
“W-What’s wrong with orange juice?” Hinata snaps.  
  
Kageyama glances out at the people milling around outside, and notes that Oikawa is now at the drinks bar, engaged in an intense staring battle with the machine as he decides which drinks he should mix.  
  
“It’s about me and Oikawa-san?” He shifts so he’s staring directly at Hinata. “That’s what you came here for, right?”

* * *

_(He’s still alive but there’s something in his chest and…  and the blood can’t stop!_

  
_Kageyama snaps his attention to his left and he sees the other person there,  coughing out blood and trying his best to crawl over to him._   
  
_No, nonononono, this can’t be true._   
_Kageyama tries to reach out to Oikawa, to close that last few centimeters separating them, but his left hand can’t move — why can’t he move?!_

 

 _He watches as Oikawa mouths ‘Tobio-chan, I-’ and holds his left hand, and Kageyama can’t stop his tears from overflowing because he can’t feel anything from his left hand — why can’t he feel?!_   
  
_No, nonononono, he doesn’t want this to be true._   
_Kageyama turns away from the sight of Oikawa bleeding away and in turn, shies away from the glint of a street mirror illuminated by the headlights of a passing car until it turns dim and he’s able to make out a figure of someone sitting beside him on the road in the glass._   
  
_An Oikawa that he can’t touch. An Oikawa that only exists in mirrors and reflection._   
_An Oikawa that is a figment of his imagination._   
_An Oikawa that only belongs to him._   
  
_Kageyama turns his attention back to the mirror and hears Oikawa whispering to him._   
_“Tobio-chan, I love you.”_

* * *

“He’s an illusion! He’s not even a ghost or anything, he’s a figment of your imagination! You should see a-”

Kageyama takes another bite out of the biscuit before setting it aside. Somehow, he lost his appetite. This always happens when he’s engaged in this conversation with Hinata. He sighs.  
  
“For the last time, Hinata, I’m not visiting a shrink.” Kageyama lowers his voice when he notices the people in other booths looking their way. “I know he’s just a hallucination and he isn’t the real Oikawa.”  
  
Hinata takes a long, noisy sip of his juice. “It’s a new year. It’s time to move forward. It’s time to look past your injury and past the Great King’s death.”  
  
“I can’t. You know that I devoted everything I had to volleyball all throughout highschool and college, and now, he’s —  _that_  Oikawa is that’s all I have left.”  
  
Hinata hears Kageyama’s unspoken plea to not take his hallucination from him, and he finally relents. He bites back his urge to reply ‘But you still have me!’ and decides to give his friend one final push.  
  
“Have you ever tried interacting with him? Holding hands or… Because if you haven’t, that’s still the same as running away because you’re not accepting this Oikawa the way he is.”

* * *

_( Time of death: 0000 )_

* * *

Fifteen minutes to midnight, Kageyama steps into his apartment and locks the door behind himself. He’s tired after walking aimlessly around for the whole day, and collapses onto the couch tiredly. As expected, he sees Oikawa reflected on the dim, blank television screen.

The brunet leans over the back of the couch and reaches out to touch Kageyama’s hair. Kageyama flinches. He’s afraid that Oikawa would disappear if they make contact, but he intentionally stiffens himself when he remembers Hinata’s words and holds his position there until Oikawa’s fingertips touches his head in the reflection.

His fingers doesn’t go through and nothing distorts. Oikawa is still there.

Oikawa is still right there, beside him, touching him, but he doesn’t feel anything.  
  
It’s the same as that time again — why can he never feel Oikawa?

Eleven minutes to midnight, Kageyama presses his palm against the television screen, against Oikawa’s face, but he feels nothing except the cool glass. He watches as Oikawa moves from the back of the couch, stepping around the breakfast mess, and sits on the ground behind where he is and hugs him from behind.  
  
He clearly sees the arms around his waist in the reflection — he clearly sees Oikawa there, down to every last detail — but he doesn’t feel anything around him in reality.

This Oikawa that only belongs to him.

This Oikawa that is a figment of his imagination.

This Oikawa that only exists in mirrors and reflection. This Oikawa that he can’t touch.  
  
“Tobio-chan.”

Kageyama chokes back his tears, but he feels the warm liquid against his cheeks. How long has it been since he last cried? He can’t remember and something tells him he doesn’t want to know.  
  
“Tobio-chan, I love you.”

Seven minutes to midnight, Kageyama watches as Oikawa removes his right hand from around his waist and slides it up his right hand and intertwines them together. He can’t see anything from this side, but there’s no dispute there’s a larger, darker shadow around his right hand in the reflection.  
  
“But you know, Tobio-chan, it’s a new year. It’s time to move forward. It’s time to look past your injury and past my death.”  
  
The dark-haired man shook his head, tears falling despite his desperate attempt to hold them back. “Why are you saying the things that Hinata said? Those things that the real you wouldn’t have known… New year? What’s that? How do you expect me to live from now on without you and volleyball? I can’t do that!”  
  
Oikawa smiles. “You can.”

Five minutes to midnight, Oikawa grips Kageyama’s left arm and starts lifting it up. Kageyama blinks through all his tears and decides to cooperate, using force and willpower to lift his own arm up because he doesn’t want to lose the illusion of Oikawa being able to hold him. He has a feeling that if he doesn’t follow through with this, Oikawa would vanish and he’ll never see him again.  
  
“See, Tobio-chan? Isn’t the human mind amazing?”

Kageyama smiles at the sight of himself finally being able to raise his left hand above his chest level. It’s a small step, but a first step all the same, and if he goes down this way, then — maybe, just maybe — he might be able to play volleyball again.   
  
He’ll be able to stand on that orange court again.  
  
With Oikawa.  
  
“Thank y-”  
  
“It’s because you worked hard, Tobio-chan. Congratulations. That’s one step to your future.”  
  
“I wouldn’t have-”  
  
Oikawa covers Kageyama’s mouth with his hand, cutting him off, and leans in to whisper into his ear. “As a reward, let me tell you something that no one else except the real Oikawa would have known, okay?”  
  
Kageyama’s eyes widens.  
  
Two minutes to midnight, Kageyama barges into the bedroom and throws open the drawer and pulls out his old mobile. The device itself is as good as new but Kageyama refuses to touch it at all. He plugs in the charger and boots up the phone, tapping his fingers impatiently against the top of the chest of drawers as the device loads up the homepage.  
  
He sees the number of unread messages, and simply skims through all of them until he finds Oikawa’s.  
  


 _“Happy New Year, Tobio._   
_I look forward to this year with you too!”_

 

“Oika-” Kageyama rushes out of the bedroom, but the sudden sound of the fireworks startles him and he jumps. The force unplugs the phone from the charger and it dies out, clattering noisily to the ground. “Oikawa-san?”  
  
“Oi…kawa-san?”  
  
Kageyama blinks, staring at the red box on the ground where the other should have been. He picks it up, and the note under it slips free.  
  


 _“Happy New Year, Tobio._   
_This year with you was fun._   
_Thank you and goodbye._   
  
_I loved you.”_

Fireworks fill the night sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: In case anyone is wondering, the "loved" (past tense) was completely intentional in Oikawa's last note. And when Oikawa was still alive, he and Kageyama never confessed to each other because "to call their relationship love, would simply be a disgrace" since they have many other fitting titles as well. The first confession was by Hallucination!Oikawa at the scene of the traffic accident. Whether Hallucination!Oikawa is Oikawa's ghost or not, I'll leave it up to your imagination.
> 
> Happy New Year.


End file.
